


Lookin' Sharp (Lookin' for Love)

by redwinehouse (orphan_account)



Series: Cranial Capacity INDEFINITE HIATUS, BUT A FULL STORY LINE WAS COMPLETED [17]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crime, F/M, Humor, Murder Mystery, Parentlock, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 03:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11774616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redwinehouse
Summary: Once you learn all of the secrets of the new victim, you head home to find a surprise visitor and a new plot reveals itself. Everything is about to change and there is no going back.





	Lookin' Sharp (Lookin' for Love)

  


  


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You and John clomped your way over to Sherlock. There was a cold wind that bit your face and brought the stench of the corpse to your nose. You winced and looked at your feet as you pressed forward. The river continued to flow next to you as it always had and always would. Did it know that it had carried a slaughtered child down its current? The same water that you used to look across had become ominous and sinister. You found yourself hating the Thames, as ridiculous as it sounded. You had to hate every single thing that had a hand in this child’s death

“Sherlock,” you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?”

Without looking up at you, he snapped, “Of course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be?”

You recoiled and took your hand from his shoulder. “Well, we are looking at a murdered baby that looks like our own. You couldn’t blame me for asking. I’m certainly not,” you huffed.

Looking over his shoulder, Sherlock shot you a nasty look. “Well, you need to learn some cognitive dissonance if you want to do this job. If you can’t then just leave.”  


“Hey!” John defended, “She has done nothing wrong! What has gotten into you?”

Sherlock merely scoffed, “Just do your jobs so I can do mine.”

Gritting your teeth, you decided to take the high road. You didn’t understand Sherlock’s sudden aggressive behavior. Possibly surprising to some, he had only spoken to you in such matter one other time, and that was when he was afraid of being loved. Whatever the reason, you had to shake it off and do your job. You went around Sherlock and had your first good look at the baby.

You felt the bile rise in your throat. From the features that were still distinguishable, she looked like she could be Jade’s sister. 

“Alright,” you began, clearing your throat and slipping on a pair of gloves. You knelt down and took out your note pad. “Half of her head was crushed, so her brain is almost completely gone or turned into mush.” you lightly touched her arms. "Bloated gaseous distention and post-mortem discoloration have given her these tan, dark purple, and blue colors on her neck, upper extremities, abdomen, and lower extremities.” you leaned in and took her tiny hand to examine it closer. “Her hands and feet are bleached and swollen, which means she’s been removed from the water, obviously. That happens after two to four days, although I would go with two.”  


You stood up. “She was killed after out last girl,” you took your gloves off. “that’s all I can do as a normal person.” 

You felt the tears start to build up and you made your way over to John, who immediately opened his arms and let you silently cry into his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly as he patted your back, “we’re getting this guy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled into his sweater.

He brought your head up. “Please just ignore him. He’s being a righteous dick and none of us need that right now.”

You wiped your tears away with the back of your sleeve. “You are a lovely friend, John Watson. Did you know that?”

John gave out a short laugh, “I don’t know about lovely but I try my best.” you both looked back at Sherlock, who had since flipped over the body.

“I’m not going over there,” you stated. “I would have, but I would have needed his support. It seems like I wouldn’t be getting that.”

John took in a breath and crossed his arms. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like he’s in the mood for good tidings today.” Sherlock stood up and started towards you. “Ready yourself,” John warned.”

“The same as all the others,” Sherlock stated coldly, peeling off his muddy coat and folding it over his arm, “smashed in head, although no lolli. You don’t have to tempt a baby, all you do is snatch them. She doesn’t have any cigarette burns, suggesting that the last one was outside of the usual pattern. There was no bruising, so it seems that she was given up and not stolen. Her clothes are gone, but I believe she is obviously homeless giving the rest of the criteria. On her chest was carved ‘Get Sherlock,” which shows minor signs of healing, indicating that it was done while she was ali-“

Then something happened that in the likes of which the world had never seen. Sherlock’s voice broke and he brought a hand to his mouth as the small sobs racked through his body. His blue eyes looked like stars when they shed tears.

“She’s just a baby,” he managed before you flung yourself at him. Your hot tears ran down his shirt as he embraced you. You wrapped your arms tightly around him and rested your forehead against his chest. Sherlock buried his face in your hair and you could feel the drops of tears hitting your head. His chest heaved with every sob.

And there you two stood, finally allowing yourselves to cry.

In what seemed like hours but what must have only been a few minutes you had both reduced yourselves to sniffles.

Sherlock finally pulled away and looked up at the sky, wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve. “Shut up, John,” he said.

“I didn’t say anything!” John protested through his own sniffles.

Sherlock brought his head down and gave it a good shake. “Yes, but you would eventually.” he had immediately fell back into his usual self.

John opened his mouth, but then closed it. “Yeah, probably.”

You pulled some tissues out of your bag. “Here,” you handed some to Sherlock, “these should help.” you handed some to John before you began to mop up your own face.

“I’m going to call Lestrade to take care of the body,” John said, already dialing the number on his phone and walking away.

The only noise was the gentle flow of the river and distant traffic.

“Do not tell anyone,” Sherlock said, giving you a side glance.

You chuckled, “Right hand to god.” you placed one hand over your heart and another up in the air near your shoulder.

“Come here,” he said, much softer. He took your hand as you navigated through the mud and into his arms. 

“I love you,” you said as you looked up at him.

Sherlock grunted, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“Wow. You _are_ a dick.”

“Fine,” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Ditto.” he quickly kissed the top of your head before John could see. “Are you satisfied?”

“For now,” you said.

~*~

The door of 221b had never looked so lovely. You wanted to run inside, snatch Jade, and never let her go. Your only problem was that you might have to fight with the Sherlock for the right. 

“John, you go, we’ll get Jade,” you said as you stepped inside. John nodded and turned to your door as you and Sherlock went to Mrs. Hudson’s flat. You knocked on the door.

“Hold on, dear!” you heard her sweet voice cry. There were several footsteps before the door was open. 

“How was everything?” you asked kindly. You absolutely adored the older woman.

Mrs. Hudson batted the question away like she would a fly. “Oh, she was perfect. You know how much I love that gingersnap!”

“Lovely,” Sherlock said plainly, “Where is she?”

“Oh,” Mrs. Hudson raised her eyebrows in remembrance and she turned to you, “one of your colleagues, um…” she looked at the ground as she tried to the remember, “ah! Dr. William Bass stopped by to visit! He showed me a book you both co-authored. I let him in and set him up with Jade. I hope that is okay?”

Your eyes widened. “Bill’s here!?”

Sherlock turned to you, confused. “Who’s this Bill?”

“Dr. Bass is the man who founded the Forensic Center and was co-author for a book I wrote years ago. He’s why I’m doing what I do and where I am today.”

Sherlock scoffed, “No one is responsible for who you are except yourself.”

“Yes, but you have inspiration and those that help you along.”

You turned back to Mrs. Hudson. “Yes, that is more than okay. I’m glad that you got to meet him. Maybe we can all get dinner later? It depends on his schedule. He’s an extremely busy man,.” you furrowed a brow, “so I’m shocked he was able to find the time to drop by, especially without calling.” you shrugged. “He is quiet quirky, so it’s not that out of the ballpark.”

Mrs. Hudson smiled. “Well, I hope you have a lovely visit.”

“Thank you again,” you smiled.

“Of course, dear.”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes, same.”

You both turned and went to your flat.

“I’m very excited. I never thought of introducing you to him.” You jabbed a finger in his face. “You _better_ be polite. This man is smart and has done a lot of revolutionary things in our field that have directly helped you.”

Sherlock snorted, “Whatever.”

You opened the door and found a man who in no sense of the word was Dr.William Bass sitting in Sherlock’s chair, balancing your daughter on his lap. You didn’t have time to react because you felt something cold press against your temple. Looking to your left you saw John in the same predicament, but with a hand over his mouth. He was looking at you with wide eyes in what looked like an apology.

Although you were loathed to admit, whoever was sitting before you was by far the second most handsome gentleman you had ever laid your eyes on. He had deep brown eyes and a face that was structured with a sharp jawline and had just the right amount of scruff that defined his cheekbones. His eyebrows were perfectly shaped and his hair was neatly combed.

What killed you was his attire. ZZ Top had it right, “every girl is crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.” He sat in a perfectly pressed grey suit, cufflinks, tie pin, oxfords and all. He oozed high class, massive ego, and fatal attraction. 

You shook your head. “You couldn’t have known,” you told John.

“Hey!” The man who had the gun to your head pushed it against you harder and made your head bounce to your shoulder and back. “No talking!”

You heard a sigh of annoyance. Looking up, you saw it was from the man who was holding Jade. 

“Now there’s no need for such violence, Goon #1. We are guests in a home.” he pointed at you, “Apologize to her.”

‘Goon #1’ Shuffled. “I’m sorry,” he said insincerely.

The man gave a light smile that did not reach his eyes. “There. Was that so, haaar- ** _d_**?” he popped the ‘d.'"

Your eyes narrowed. “How did you get in here, Moriarty? Can leprechauns walk through walls now?” you spat.

Moriarty leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath of what looked like pleasure. “Sherlock, if my brain would chemically allow me to form close bonds with others and care about anyone other than myself I would absolutely fall in love with this girl, honestly. She’s still enjoyable enough. Might have to snatch her one of these days.”

Sherlock had been held back in the doorway, but he was finally pushed forward by what must have been Goon #3.

“James Moriarty,” Sherlock said evenly, putting his hands behind his back, “why have you finally given us such the pleasure?” Sherlock remained calm, but you could see that his knuckles were turning white.

Moriarty ignored him, instead he looked at Jade and made funny popping sounds with his mouth. She giggled in delight and touched his cheek.

“Unca M.”

Three things happened at once: Sherlock lunged forward, only to be shoved back by Goon #3. You called Moriarty every curse word in the book, and John bit the hand that was covering his mouth. All of you were subsequently beaten back into your places,

Moriarty leaned backward, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. He raised a hand, “I’m starting to sense a lot of hostility in this room,” he put the hand to his chest, “and frankly it’s making me feel uncomfortable. There is a ch _iiiiiiil_ d,” he sang, “in the room.” He bulged his eyes and motioned his head downwards to Jade as if he didn’t want her to know he was talking about her.

Jade continued to stroke Moriarty’s cheek and your blood lust reached new levels. “Unca M.”

Moriarty put a hand over his heart. “Do you know that I’m an uncle now?” he closed his eyes and took a dramatic breath, “and honestly, I am so touched.” And honestly, he so wasn’t. “We’ve been talking about it for weeks, her and me.” He turned to Sherlock. “I even taught her your name. I thought that would creep you out a little bit.”  


“And you,” Moriarty tilled, turning to you, “are just absolutely lovely. Please,” he gestured to John’s chair. “come and sit.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Sherlock challenged.

Moriarty tilted his head as the safety of the gun pointed against your head clicked. “Oh, no?"

Sherlock took an angry breath. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

Moriarty snorted as Jade began to play with his fingers. “Oh, I _seriously_ doubt that,” he taunted in a high octave. He looked at you again. “Well, come on, sweetheart. I don’t have all day.”

Shaking with anger, you slowly walked to the chair and sat down. You stared into Moriarty’s eyes without blinking, sending him all of your hatred and hopefully strength.

“Your gold ain’t here, _sweetheart_ ,” you challenged, fire coursing through your veins.

Moriarty fanned himself with his hand. “Is it getting hot in here or is it just me? You are a _fireball_ , do you know that?” Moriarty looked up at Sherlock. “I’m going to steal her,” he crooned, now lightly bouncing Jade on his lap.

You could tell that it was taking everything he had for Sherlock to keep calm, but you could see that his teeth were clenched to the point that they could possibly break and every muscle in his body was taunt.

Moriarty rested an elbow on the arm of the chair, leaning his cheek on his palm. “You’re quite beautiful, do you know that?” he jerked his head in Sherlock’s direction. “Does that idiot ever slow down and take the time to tell you that?”

You leaned in and spat in his face. Moriarty blinked several times and all of his goons started forward, but he held up a hand. You watched as his lips spread into a satisfied smirk and his eyes came even more alive as he wiped the spit from his forehead.

“I don’t know what you were trying to accomplish, love, but I’m guessing it wasn’t trying to make me like you even more. If it was, you were entirely successful.”  


“What do you want?” Sherlock finally snapped, complete venom in his voice.

“What, me?” Moriarty pointed to himself. “I’m here to kill you, Sherlock,” he let his jaw hang open foolishly and shook his head. “ ** _Doi_**!”

The atmosphere in the flat changed from anger to nervousness and possibly fear, at least from your end.

“Ah,” Moriarty batted your fears away, “do you really think I’m just going to _shoo_ t him in front of his friends, wife, and baby?” he chuckled. “How _boring_ would that be!” he tutted. “No, no, no. I have much bigger and better things in mind.”

Moriarty stood up and went up to Goon#4. “Take this thing,” he handed him Jade, “and be careful.” Goon #4 nodded and headed out the door.

“No!” Both Sherlock and you shouted, bolting to the door, only to be shoved back to your place. You felt tears fighting their way to your eyes, but you refused to let them. Now was not the time to show any weakness.

Moriarty’s face went ice cold. “That’s step one, Sherlock.” he walked over to the detective, getting within an inch from his face. They locked eyes and Moriarty leaned in to his ear. His breath caressing the flesh as if a lover before he whispered, “I plan to wreck everything that you have ever held dear until you are lying on the floor as a broken man. Then, I will kill you.” 

Moriarty stepped back, still matching the cold gaze of Sherlock’s. With his hands behind his back, he turned to you. “Do everything I say or I'll blow your brains out,” he said simply.  


You scowled at him with all of the hatred in the world. You wanted him dead. You wanted to slit his throat. You wanted him to burn. But you had to play along for now.  


You nodded.

His face softened. “Take my hand.” he held out his hand. Completely thrown off guard, you hesitantly put your hand in his surprisingly warm one. You had been expecting it to be freezing, like a corpse. You knew what dead, emotionless people looked like, and he was one of them.

He pulled you up and you were merely inches from his face. "We're going to do something to make the detective _very_ mad."

Moriarty tilted his head and gave you a very well mimicked look of concern. “I’m really sorry you had to get caught up in the middle of this.” he looked at Sherlock. “So taking Jade away wasn’t the only step we were working on today,” Moriarty said with the most devilish grin on his face. You watched as Sherlock’s eyes widened and then narrowed in absolute furry.

“ _Don’t you dare! Get away from her!_ ”

Feeling completely stupid, you started to ask, “Sherl-,” but you never finished your sentence.

Moriarty pinched the sides of your face with both fingers and turned you back to him. “Now, I’m very excited for this next part.” he bit his lips and looked at the ceiling and then his shoes as if embarrassed. “I’m going to make Sherlock _really, really_ angry and kiss you. Now, you are going to kiss me back or else it will be the new Valentine's Day Massacre in here!” His eyes widened and his mouth formed a ‘o’.

This man was an absolute psychopath.

“Please tell me you understand.” Moriarty cupped his ear and leaned forward.

With all of the disgust in the world you said, “Yes.” 

The word had hardly come out of your mouth when his lips hungrily crashed into yours. They were surprisingly soft, but incredibly demanding. He immediately placed a hand on the small of your back and pulled you to him so that every inch of you was touching. His other hand dived into your hair, making you sigh. You had a sensitive scalp, and that was your weak spot. He smirked against your lips and pulled you tighter against him. 

You could hear Sherlock desperately fighting to get to you, but it seemed that every goon aside the one who was holding John had him down, so there was no way he was getting to you. 

Your arms began to twitch. You wanted to wrap them around Moriarty’s neck, but you shouldn’t. No, _couldn't_. That’s what you meant.

Both of his hands were now in your hair, giving him the ability to push your lips harder against his. Even worse, he could run his hands through your hair tenfold, making you weak in the knees. 

Your fingers slightly held the hem of his suit jacket, hardly visible to the naked eye. Of course, not to one person, who then kissed you behind the ear.

Before you knew it, it was over. Moriarty pulled away, but not far enough for Sherlock to see.

“Now, Sherlock –“ Moriarty began, but you leaned in and kissed him again.

For the first time in his life, Moriarty was surprised. Completely, utterly, stupendously, and most of all _wonderfully_ surprised. When you pulled away, his eyes were wide and he was grinning in fiendish delight. 

He leaned forward and kissed you again. “Oh, dear,” he sang. “What are going to tell the children?”

**Author's Note:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) um this wasn't part of the original plan and the end just flew out of my hands the last few seconds I was typing, so I have no idea how I'm going to alter the coming events. I am just surprised as you (hopefully) are
> 
> I really want to make my reader-interactive character very, very rounded and have depth. I have been getting a lot of compliments about her and saying that I've accomplished that. What I want to do here is push the boundaries and make her, as an obviously good person, do something very, very wrong, because the good people aren't always perfect and they don't always win.
> 
> This is STILL a SHERLOCK story, but we're adding another layer to the cake here.


End file.
